


Something Scarlet at Your Ankle

by Lady_Ganesh



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, xxxHoLic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, First Meetings, First Time, M/M, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-09 20:50:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13489518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ganesh/pseuds/Lady_Ganesh
Summary: Doumeki thought he knew the path of his life.Then he met Yuuko and her padawan.





	Something Scarlet at Your Ankle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jougetsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jougetsu/gifts).



> For Jougetsu, who said _Just make them happy, dear writer, that’s all I want._ Me too.

Doumeki Shizuka was born to the Temple, as his father and grandfather had been; Father had chosen to live in the world once he came of age, and Grandfather had returned after the death of his wife, but the eldest Doumeki son always served the temple until he was twenty.

Doumeki liked the life, for the most part. It wasn't exciting, generally, but it was steady and peaceful.

Still, he always enjoyed days when Jedi came to visit, as tense as the air might become, as many times as the Jedi or Whills voiced an oblique insult that everyone pretended they hadn’t heard. It lended a bit of a spark to the air, and the Jedi apprentices were loud and boisterous and ridiculous in a way that always drew Doumeki's attention.

"There's a pretty one," Grandfather said, as the last of them passed, a dark-haired, energetic young man following in the wake of a preternaturally calm Jedi Master with equally dark hair and amber eyes. In the way of many padawans, he was nervous, talkative, while she moved as though her feet didn't bother with the inconvenience of the ground. She noticed them staring and winked.

"Which one did you mean?"

"Both," Grandfather said, "but I think the younger one is more to your tastes."

"Don't," he said, because Grandfather was right, and the young man's voice echoed in his head long after the Jedi had disappeared down the hallway.

 

It wasn’t as though apprentices hadn’t caught Doumeki’s attention before. Not as if he was a stranger to the flirtations and assignations that were part of Temple life. But the apprentice--Watanuki, he learned, and curled the name into his heart like a fragment of a sacred scroll--paid little attention to anyone but his master, Yuuko, and a charming young apprentice named Himawari, who seemed fond of him, but no more than that.

Grandfather flirted with Yuuko, bringing her bright glasses of the forbidden spirits he not-so-secretly brewed in the kitchens. Yuuko flirted back, holding a little of herself in reserve, the way you do when you are at a Temple just long enough for your charge to find the Kyber crystal that matched their needs. No one fell in love under such circumstances, especially not a Jedi, who were not to fall in love at all.

It was easy for Doumeki to tell himself it was merely his body's hunger that drew him to Watanuki, his rail-thin body and constantly moving mouth. Just a passing infatuation that made him long to press Watanuki close, find his ribs under his Jedi robes, make him come undone again and again.

(If Watanuki had been just a little quieter, a little less beautiful, it might have been easier.)

No Kyber crystal in the galleries called to him, so--at Yuuko’s insistence--Watanuki looked in the deep mines below the temple with Doumeki. Watanuki's eyes darted to every sound, as though he sensed every evidence of life below the surface. His mouth twisted in thought, and Doumeki found himself staring.

 _We shouldn’t be alone,_ Doumeki thought. He wanted too much.

"Here," Watanuki said, his fingers spreading across the wall of the cave. "Could we--"

Doumeki had seen Jedi find their crystals before, but none with such certainty. "Yes. The path loops around in a few meters."

The crystal was small and perfect, all but glowing in Watanuki's palm. "This is it," he said, and for a moment they both stared at it in silence. "From here, I'll craft my saber."

Doumeki wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to be a servant of the Force in the way of the Jedi rather than the way of the Whills. What it would be like to be chained to a single Master, one weapon, a path as clear and steady as starlight.

 

Two nights later, the Temple was attacked. Doumeki received a nasty gash over his eye fighting off the thieves, and landed in the infirmary next to a wounded Yuuko and her flustered apprentice.

"There was no need for that," Watanuki chided Yuuko. "The Guardians had it well in hand and--" His gaze fell on Doumeki, and his eyes widened. "Are you--?"

"It's just a cut." He turned away; he didn't want to know the expression on Watanuki's face. He already knew he would never be a Jedi, not anything Watanuki would want to hold dear.

Yuuko smiled at him. "You're an excellent shot," she said. "We could use archers like you in our Order."

"I don't think I'm made to be a Jedi," he said. "With all respect, Master Yuuko."

"There's no shame in that.” She leaned back on her cot. "Now stop fussing, Watanuki. I'm fine."

 

The Jedi left the next morning. Doumeki found it impossible to separate relief from pain in his chest. Himawari promised to write him, and he promised to do the same, won over by her generous, trusting smile. Watanuki was focused on Yuuko, on the journey, on the three carefully-wrapped bottles of spirits they pretended weren't hidden in Yuuko's luggage.

"We'll see you again," Yuuko said, and Doumeki, taken aback by the 'we,' stared as she laughed.

Three months later, when the head priest told him the Jedi had asked for him on an important mission, he wasn't surprised, and he didn't bother asking which Jedi had asked.

Grandfather bundled another bottle of spirit into his bags. “Be safe,” he said. “Watch out for that young man of yours.”

 _He’s not,_ Doumeki thought, but knew better than to argue. "I'll see you again soon," Doumeki said.

Grandfather just shook his head.

Doumeki held him for a long time before they parted.

"You?" Watanuki asked as Doumeki stepped onto the bridge of the small ship. Yuuko laughed at him, the sound musical, inviting.

"I told you that fate wasn't through with you two yet," she said.

 

Watanuki proved a surprisingly good pilot, and Yuuko invited Doumeki to the back of the ship to drink and talk through their mission. The paired droids that cared for maintenance on the ship were good-natured and cheerful, and were happy to pour more spirits as needed.

He was half-asleep when Watanuki finally came to the back of the ship, grumbling as he covered them with blankets. He didn’t start when Watanuki's hand brushed the back of his neck, but he was grateful that Watanuki had already dimmed the lights, grateful that Watanuki himself seemed too exhausted to note the spike in Doumeki’s heartbeat.

His bed had been empty, since Yuuko and Watanuki had left. There were nights in the temple where he woke up reaching for a presence that wasn't there, thinking of busy hands and dark, dark hair.

He listened to Watanuki’s footsteps as they faded.

 

Yuuko met with men and women in quiet, smoke-filled rooms, and their hold began to fill. It was quiet work, and Doumeki wondered why Yuuko had asked for him.

She made Watanuki do saber drills every afternoon, watching and correcting his form, whether they were inside or outside. "You should spar," she suggested once, when she'd once again caught Doumeki staring as the blue saber sliced the air. “It’d be pretty to watch.”

"I'm better with the bow," he said.

"We have wooden swords," she said, her smile wicked. "I wouldn't let him--"

"Wouldn't let me _what?"_ Watanuki called, sharply.

"Wouldn't let you neglect your training while we're traveling," she snapped. "You're curved like Doumeki's bow, stand up straight."

Himawari had left the Order not long after they’d left the Temple. "She wants to get married," Watanuki said, as they walked back to the ship, carrying Yuuko's purchases as she remained behind to flirt with the merchant.

Doumeki listened to Watanuki complain about the day and their work for a little while, half-tuning him out, watching the blue-orange glow as the planet's first sun began to set. His eyes traced the neck of Watanuki’s robes, pulled down with the weight of his packages, exposing just a bit more of the curve of his pale neck.

"Doumeki, you idiot, are you even paying attention?"

"Hm?"

"You can, right? Get married?"

"Yes," he said, as though he'd been listening carefully and just not understood Watanuki's question. He knew he wasn’t fooling Watanuki, but needling him was half the fun. "My grandfather left the temple to raise his family, and then returned when he was widowed. But he was a Guardian for all his life."

"We pledge our lives to the Order," Watanuki said. "No attachments, though--" He glanced back in the direction they had come. "I think some of the Masters cheat, a little."

Doumeki smiled at that.

"But will you?"

"What?" Doumeki said. "Get married? I haven't really thought about it."

Watanuki didn't speak again.

 

After the first month, Yuuko sent them off to do work together, tasks that sometimes made sense and sometimes seemed completely random. Watanuki had a far better sense of the Force than Doumeki, who found himself chasing shadows on Watanuki's command more often than not. Usually everything came clear when the job was done, but sometimes they walked back in silence, Watanuki humming with satisfaction, Doumeki still confused about where he'd really been and what he'd done.

"You're working well together," Yuuko said. "I'm glad."

Jedi made better targets than Guardians--Doumeki discovered he wasn't as recognizable as he thought he was, which made things easier--but he was still startled when Watanuki was targeted by something almost tangible on Iziz. For once, he saw it, saw the black shadow that hovered over his shoulder, a void that wanted everything Watanuki was.

 _"Don't--"_ Watanuki called, but Doumeki aimed, let the arrow fly.

They didn't speak for a week after that.

Watanuki only softened after Yuuko spoke with him, quietly, as Doumeki did his own drills.

"Food's ready, if you want it," he said, as Doumeki swung his staff, and that was that.

 

After six months, Doumeki thought they were settled into a routine. He was certain that all was going as planned when he came back from practice, bow over his shoulder, and found Watanuki alone in an empty ship, sobbing so intently he didn’t register Doumeki's presence until he was hauled to his feet.

"She's gone," Watanuki stammered, but wouldn’t say anything further.

 _This is why Yuuko asked for me,_ Doumeki realized. Someone had to force Watanuki to eat. Someone had to make sure he washed and try to get him to sleep. Someone had to decide, after three days, to pack everything up, make sure they had enough supplies, to take again to the stars.

"What course should I set?" he asked, when they were out of orbit.

Watanuki just shook his head.

Doumeki opened the bottle of his grandfather’s spirit and poured Watanuki a glass. "Drink," he said.

"I'm not--"

"Drink," he repeated, and Watanuki swallowed a reluctant mouthful.

Doumeki set the ship on autopilot and took the bottle back for a drink of his own. It was half empty when he felt his Grandfather passing out of the universe. By the time the bottle was empty his head was spinning, but Watanuki's warm, unconscious weight at his side was oddly comforting.

 

He woke with his head throbbing and something soft and lovely playing through the ship's speakers. There were two round pills and a glass of water at his elbow; he took the pills, swallowed down as much water as he could stand, and carefully stood up.

The ship gleamed. Everything smelled like cleaner, and Watanuki was near the fore of the ship, holding a viewscreen, scrubbing the tempered glass with a cloth. The droids were polishing a set of brass knobs on a control panel Doumeki had never noticed before.

For a moment, Doumeki thought he must be hallucinating, and then Watanuki looked at him, blue eyes widening for a moment in surprise. His hair was tied back with a cloth, but--

"Your braid," Doumeki said, stupidly, because it was gone.

"I'm not a padawan now," Watanuki said. "Not a Jedi. She--Yuuko tried to tell me. But I wouldn't listen to her." He put the viewscreen down. "She...she'd already programmed in a course. If you need to go back--"

"No." Doumeki shook his head. "I'm supposed to be with you."

“I’m not going back to the Order.”

“That doesn’t change anything,” he said, because it was the truth.

"I'm sorry I was...I'm better now."

"You loved her."

“I...she'll come back."

Doumeki didn't bother arguing.

 

Now Doumeki was the one who stood guard, hand on his bow, while Watanuki bargained at the table, Yuuko's lightsaber at his side. He swaggered, and Doumeki hardly recognized him at times, his sharpness and targeted silences. With Yuuko gone, they sold as much as they bought, though Doumeki still didn’t ask about the nature of their cargo.

The chattering, nervous young man Doumeki thought he knew only appeared in the ship, when they were alone, and not always at that. It felt both alienating and intimate, that Watanuki only let the mask slip sometimes, and only when Doumeki’s eyes were on him.

They were attacked by a band of Quarren warriors on Mindor, and Watanuki moved with such grace it would have taken Doumeki's breath away, if he could have spared the breath. Yuuko's lightsaber was green, not the clear blue of the saber Watanuki had forged for himself, but Watanuki wielded it just as comfortably.

There were speeders coming for them on the horizon, so there was no time to savor victory. They broke orbit just as the reinforcements came, looking down at the Quarrens fruitlessly shooting at them from the surface.

"We didn't--did we forget--" Watanuki gasped, and laughed in relief when Doumeki revealed the box still in his arms.

They laughed until Doumeki realized that Watanuki had begun sobbing. Doumeki carefully put his box and bow down and pulled Watanuki into his arms.

Watanuki didn't stop until the front of Doumeki's robes were soaked with tears and snot. "I don't know...I don't know why she thought I could do this," he said, into Doumeki's chest.

"Hey." Doumeki took Watanuki's face in his hands, looked into his face. "You're not dead yet, right?"

If he hadn't already known how far gone he was, Doumeki would have learned it then, with Watanuki's eyes red-rimmed and streaming, Watanuki's breath ragged and raw. All Doumeki wanted to do was hold him closer. Keep him.

No wonder his grandfather had known he wouldn't return to the Temple.

"We'll have to wash your robes," Watanuki said.

Doumeki said, "I don't care."

"I'm sorry about your grandfather," Watanuki said. "I should have--"

"I'm not going back," Doumeki said. "To the Temple. He knew. It's not my path."

"Oh." Watanuki blinked at him. "I didn't realize."

"I didn't say."

"You don't have to stay with us," he said.

"I want to."

"Okay," Watanuki said, and pushed Doumeki's hands aside so he could wipe his own face. "Okay."

 

On Taanab, they rented an empty cottage at the edge of a settlement and moved in their stock. Watanuki said they would be selling wishes, and Doumeki realized quickly that it wasn’t a bad way of describing it; the shop, as if by magic, always had the one needed crystal, the lost bearing, a rare bottle of spiced pulkay to impress a new father-in-law.

Watanuki turned out to be an accomplished cook, as long as Doumeki was willing to go out and buy the food. "When we're not needed here," Watanuki said, "we'll move on."

"And you'll know?"

Watanuki nodded. He’d grown more certain in the past months.

They lived together at the cottage, selling wishes and moving carefully around one another, for twenty-seven days. On the twenty-eighth, Doumeki heard the screaming of stressed metal as he haggled for eggs in the marketplace.

He dropped his purchases and ran toward the sound.

By the time he returned to the cottage he was hours late, his arms empty, his robes soaked in blood. _No one died,_ he told himself, but the metallic sting at the back of his throat still unsettled him.

More unsettling still was the look on Watanuki's face when he threw the door open. "How are you so late? What--by the _Force,_ Doumeki, what did you do to yourself?!"

"I'm all right," he said, and no sooner were the words out of his mouth than Watanuki was in his arms, sighing relief.

"Damn it, you were gone so long, and--"

"Careful," Doumeki said, because he wanted to make a joke, tease Watanuki about admitting to weakness, but Watanuki just held him closer, and Doumeki couldn’t say anything at all.

"You're not hurt," Watanuki said, a question.

"No," Doumeki said. "Speeder crash, into Sabina's stall. She...we won't be eating her sausage for a day or two, but she isn't badly hurt. Some of the others--" He took a breath. The children had been the worst. No one had died, at least at the market, but it was hard to forget the blood.

Doumeki felt Watanuki pulling into himself, straightening up. "Come on," he said. "You need a bath."

Doumeki let Watanuki strip him down, draw the bath, wash off the blood and dirt from the accident. His touches barely registered, and he couldn't bring himself to be alarmed when Watanuki discovered the wound on his back. He remembered, faintly, the falling debris and the pressure there, but none of that had seemed to matter much at the time. Watanuki bandaged him, chiding him all the while, and Doumeki wondered if he had always been so strong when he lifted Doumeki and carried him to the bath, or if he was using the Force.

Doumeki heard a knock as he eased further into the water. He closed his eyes and tried not to listen.

"Everyone's going to live," Watanuki said, as he came back into the bathroom with a glass. He kneeled down by the tub. "You'll need to stay hydrated; I don't know how much blood you lost. Sabina says we're getting free sausages for as long as we stay here. That you--" He took Doumeki's unhurt shoulder and shook it. _"Doumeki."_

"Every wish has a price," Doumeki said. "Isn't that what you say?"

"Doumeki, what the hell--"

He pulled Watanuki to him, too exhausted to talk, to think beyond _but I wished for you, and if this is what binds us--_

Watanuki grumbled something about his robes getting wet, but he stroked the back of Doumeki's neck.

 

Sabina credited him with saving three children's lives and preventing a fire that might have destroyed the whole market. Watanuki called him an idiot for taking such chances. He pulled his bedroll next to Doumeki's, keeping vigil when Doumeki woke in the night.

"I'm all right," he said, as he slipped back into his own bedroll. "I'm almost healed, you know that. You don't have to--"

"Shut up," Watanuki said, turning over. "Go back to sleep."

Doumeki closed his eyes and listened to Watanuki breathe for a long time. _This is enough,_ he thought, feeling how warm Watanuki was, how close. _Whatever I might think I want, this is enough._

 

In the morning, Watanuki nudged at Doumeki's ribs with his toes. "Hey," he said. "If you're 'almost healed,' come on. I haven't had anyone to spar against in a while."

They practiced with wooden swords, not sabers, and Watanuki took four of five matches before Doumeki begged for mercy and switched to his staff. They were more evenly matched, then, even with the stiffness that remained in Doumeki's healing shoulder. They were tied at three when they took a break.

Doumeki tossed Watanuki a canteen, just to watch his throat work as he drank.

Watanuki caught him staring. "All right," he said, and walked to Doumeki.

Doumeki's excuses froze in his throat.

Yuuko's lightsaber was in its place on Watanuki’s belt; Doumeki looked at it, not ready to raise his gaze. Watanuki lifted his hand to Doumeki's face, tracing Doumeki's jaw with his fingertips. Doumeki's lips parted as Watanuki's index finger brushed them. He wasn’t sure if he was shaking. All he was certain of was Watanuki's touch and the way his heart hammered against his ribs.

"Go ahead," Watanuki said, "unless--"

"You're going to drive me insane," Doumeki said.

"You're already crazy," Watanuki said, but he let Doumeki kiss him, laughed a little as Doumeki tried to lift him and the pain in his shoulder flared. "You idiot," he said. He was the one to lead them back into the cottage, laughing as they kissed, as Doumeki tried to understand the folds in Jedi robes, as Watanuki chided him to be careful, watch his wound, almost healed isn't _fully_ healed, don't be stupid--

They collapsed somewhere on the floor. Doumeki kissed a line from Watanuki's collarbone to his hips, and Watanuki stopped laughing then, let his fingers trail lazily in Doumeki's hair as Doumeki's mouth sank lower. Doumeki glanced up and saw Watanuki's eyes, dark with desire, his lips parted.

He darted up to kiss him again, and he wanted everything, every inch of Watanuki, for however long the dream would last. Watanuki wrapped his legs around Doumeki, pulled him closer. "How long?" he whispered into Doumeki's ear, and Doumeki kissed him again before he could demand an answer.

 _I should take my time,_ he thought, but he had wanted too much for too long, and instead he took Watanuki in hand, trying to record every little gasp, watching Watanuki's eyelashes flutter when he was overcome. Doumeki licked the spend off his hand, as Watanuki watched him, wide-eyed. "What?" he said.

"Nothing," Watanuki said, and Doumeki laughed again, because he would never have guessed that _that_ of all things would make Watanuki speechless.

He slid his hands under Watanuki and said, "We must have something."

"Something?"

"What did you use--" He thought of lubricant, of everything they could do, but he didn’t want to let Watanuki go. Next time. _Maybe I'll get a next time._ "Never mind," he said, and loosened his own robes, watching with some gratification as Watanuki's eyes locked onto his cock.

"I'll remember," Watanuki threatened, seizing him. His hand was rougher and faster than Doumeki would normally want, but it was enough to have Watanuki there, underneath him, _touching_ him. It was enough to hear another tiny gasp from Watanuki as Doumeki spilled, like he'd never seen anything like Doumeki before.

Watanuki grabbed his face, pulled him down, kissed him again and again and again.

 

Doumeki woke covered in a blanket, with Watanuki curled in his arms, still sleeping. He nodded his thanks to the droids. Blue and white lights flashed back in recognition.

They were still half-dressed. Watanuki's saber was somewhere on the floor. Doumeki's staff was probably still outside in the dark. _It can wait,_ he thought.

"You didn't answer me." Watanuki's voice was soft, unfocused, like a dream.

"What did you ask?"

"How long?"

"I don't know," Doumeki said. "I...noticed you. As soon as we met. But--" He couldn’t explain it. Maybe he wouldn’t ever be able to. "Grandfather knew. Before I did."

"Yuuko did too. She knew a lot of things I didn't realize." His sigh puffed air against Doumeki's chest, and he stroked Doumeki's exposed collarbone with his thumb. "We should get out the bedrolls. Your shoulder will ache in the morning."

Doumeki didn’t want to move. Moving meant taking his hands off Watanuki.

"Come on," Watanuki said, and sat up, holding his hand out to Doumeki. "It's cold on the floor."

Doumeki went to find his staff, leaving Watanuki to get the bedrolls. There was little moonlight, and it took him longer than it should have.

Watanuki had rolled out only one bedroll, the larger one that Yuuko had always used. Doumeki tried not to read too much into it, but Watanuki didn't move away from Doumeki's touch when he got in.

Watanuki's smell and presence had become familiar, but there was still something different about having him this close. Having him in his arms.

It took him a long time to fall asleep again.

 

They were both starving in the morning-- _did we eat last night?_ Watanuki asked, his nose wrinkling in thought, and Doumeki wasn't sure either--so they first focused on the ordinary work of breakfast, rolling the bedroll and putting it back, setting the table.

They didn’t speak much, but the silence was companionable, and Watanuki's cheeks colored when Doumeki brushed his hand, deliberately, on his way to grabbing another hotcake.

Watanuki washed the dishes while Doumeki washed up. He was drying them when Doumeki found him, the light from the first sun touching his face through the window.

Doumeki, still buzzing from last night, his fingers slick from the jar he found in the bathroom, stepped behind him. Watanuki took a tiny, soft breath.

"I'm not _finished,"_ Watanuki protested, but he let Doumeki work him open anyway, his hands braced against the sink, his legs spreading wider. He dropped his head back against Doumeki's shoulder, cursed under his breath when Doumeki found what he was looking for.

Watanuki was hot and tight around his fingers, hotter still around his cock. He pushed back at Doumeki's every thrust, cried out as Doumeki brought him off.

"I'll have to clean the sink," Watanuki grumbled.

"I'll clean the sink," Doumeki said, kissing the side of Watanuki's neck. "Wash up."

Watanuki headed for the tub, complaining all the while that Doumeki wouldn’t clean to his satisfaction. Doumeki smiled to himself and grabbed the sponge.

 

There was a much larger tub of the slick Doumeki had found in the storeroom. "I can't believe her," Watanuki said. They brought it into the bathroom anyway.

The tub emptied quickly. Doumeki was greedy, and Watanuki, to Doumeki’s surprise and pleasure, matched his hunger. They rarely left the bed without touching. Sparring sessions ended with Watanuki pressed against the back wall, his legs wrapped around Doumeki, cursing under his breath, his fingers twisted in Doumeki's hair.

More customers came and went. The stocks began to dwindle.

"Are we leaving soon?" Doumeki asked one afternoon.

"I think so," Watanuki said. There would be no further business today, and he had shed his outer robes; Doumeki could see his pale chest where the fabric parted, and itched to touch it. "You feel it too, don't you?"

"I don't feel it the way you do," Doumeki said. "I'm not sure I ever will."

"I guess it doesn't matter, if one of us does." Watanuki rose from the chair he'd been lounging in and walked toward Doumeki. "You're coming with us?"

"I told you," Doumeki said, reaching for him. "I'm not going back."

"You're certain."

Doumeki nodded and pulled Watanuki against him. "You know," he said, his hands on Watanuki's back. "Especially not after I've tasted your cooking."

"You're ridiculous," Watanuki said, and kissed him.

 

Sabina cried when they left, and insisted on giving them an extra half-pound of sausage. Doumeki watched as the planet faded from view. "Where now?"

"We're on our own," Watanuki said. "I've made my best guess, but--" He shrugged. "I guess she thought I'd be ready by now. I...don't know if I am." He glanced uncertainly at Doumeki. "It's a good thing we've been sparring."

Doumeki slid an arm around Watanuki's waist. "Just don't pick any fights."

"No promises," Watanuki said, leaning into him, as they slipped into the stars.


End file.
